Picture on the Wall
by BlackLightning42
Summary: X/F, Filia being morbid, I suppose. Almost char. death


Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't claim to, please don't sue me. Written after listening to Eminem late at night. Go figure. 

The Picture On My Wall 

A picture is worth a thousand words, they say. 

A picture of the eternal grin almost sinister, as if the jaded image of what was once an attempt to portray happiness - perfect mouth turned up just slightly at the edges in amusement, a smile enough to melt any beholder. Eyes open, for a rare moment, to the camera's view – deep and purple and shimmering like a cat's. Of course, if it were only the picture of a feline, things would be so very much easier, indeed. Pupils narrow from the camera flash, and sparkling light in the endless depth of the center. His face was perfect cream color – looking as if it had never been touched by the sun's rays, and never needed to be. His face the perfect shape with a graceful air even out of motion, with indistinguishable features that managed to stay etched in the onlooker's memory nonetheless. His entire face reflected his surprise at the camera that had appeared behind him, and his hair swirled around his face in a rare state of disarray as he spun to face the photographer. Even surprised and bordering on anger, he was an incredibly beautiful being. 

The young dragon held this precious picture in her hands, admiring the image of the one she thought so much of. For a creature such as he was, the Mazoku was a marvel of creation. 

Despite the fact that the picture was almost gray in the small amount of light, she didn't need the physical item to see it. And she didn't need a picture to see him. He was etched into her memory, every piece of his image was a part of her and in her mind eternally, never leaving her mind's eye. 

The rain splashed against the window to her small room at the inn, and ran down the pane of glass the same as the tears ran down her face. Rain had always made her spirit dark, hiding the sun that seemed to others so much a part of her very being. She hated the rain, and now she was left alone with nothing to do and no company to endure it. But that of the dear picture. 

Of course, she always felt alone. So what was the difference? 

He didn't care, he didn't care about anything, and he hated her. If not in his company, she would much rather have been alone. He was all that mattered, and all that would never be for her. 

"Xelloss," she whispered, running her fingers over the picture as if it were actually his skin. She had often wondered what it would be like to run her hands over his face even to grasp his hand – but she dare not, for fear of angering him. She would have given anything for a place in his untouchable heart, but it was all to clear to her that it was something she would never have. He had a heart somewhere in the aloof jovialities, it was clear to anyone – it was simply that he didn't care about anything at all. What she would have done to be the one that first won a place in his heart. 

But he wouldn't care about her. He was too perfect to care, his love was as likely to be discovered as his secrets, and those, well, he would guard them with his life. 

She ran her fingers across the unmarred face that the image portrayed on a simple piece of paper What had made this sheet, and no other, worthy of carrying his image? She knew not, but the honor of carrying a part of him was an honor she knew she would never have. 

If anyone, especially he, found out how deep a love she held for him, he would hate her more decidedly and more eternally than he already did. Her friends would think it was incredibly amusing, they would laugh at her poor, misled emotion. Her people would shun her – no Golden Dragon was ever to care naught for a Mazoku, and one that did would easily be labeled a traitor. And, Cepheed knew, he would hate her more, and find it all the more amusing to torment her. So he would never know. 

Not until it was too late for him to hate her for it. 

Swiftly she placed the photograph on the floor in front of her – letting the image of the one she loved so dearly bring her the comfort and the resolve that she needed. She would need these things provided to her soon enough. 

With a final graze of her fingers over his face, ever in her mind wondering what it might be like to have the honor of coming in contact with him in reality, she took into her hand a razor-edged dagger. The edge of the dagger sparkled with evidence of its purpose, enchanted to the point of being adept to slice through the flesh of even a dragon. She would wonder what the feel of his skin might be, but she would never know. 

Trying to ignore how the tears stung at her eyes, she glided the blade along her fingertips, testing the edge as it carved neat slices in her fingers. The sensation sent shards of pain through her nervous system, making her shoulders hunch in a manner that would be unnoticed to anyone watching. The cold metal bit lightly into her skin, leaving the impression of an iron taste along her fingers, and she cringed at the feeling it left with her. Nonetheless, the pain was good, a relief after the tension that had been building up for the few moments before, and she moved the blade towards the sensitive inside of her wrist. Final pain would be her punishment for loving a monster. 

Pain would serve another purpose as well. All Mazoku feed from the pain of others, her pain now would be her parting gift to her love, he could feel the throbbing of her hand as the blood flowed slowly from her fingers, he could feel each tear from her eyes, he would feel her despair as her life slipped away, alone and unloved. 

With that acknowledgement she lifted the blade from her wrist a few seconds, preparing to bring it down and end her life in a single stroke. 

But she was unable to bring the dagger back to her wrist – not for lack of will to do so, for the will was very much present. It was for the firm hand holding her back, iron grip keeping her arm where it was. 

She looked up to the person that had spared her life, and into a pair of glinting purple eyes.

End


End file.
